I'm heading up to meet with the kids in the creative writing class at Mead High School later this morning. I don't have a defined talk and, according to Dori Whitford who teaches the class, not all of them are aspiring writers.
These students are coming of age in the most disruptive technological period in history, one that started in the 1960's and has an equal number of decades to finish reordering our human society. That's under the presumption that Ebola doesn't stop us in our tracks, the Russians don't resort to nukes, and that fanatical Islam doesn't gain ascendancy among the more enlightened Muslims.
Hey, I'm a writer. I'm good at doomsday scenarios.
So the emphasis of the talk this morning will be to find the curls in the tsunami and surf them successfully.
I self-publish. That's one curl. Others design lives built around passions and simplify. That's another curl. Dozens exist, each a small niche that leads to an exciting and fulfilling life.
The trick is to see the curl. To do that, you have to stop fighting the wave, accept it, and flow.
The future can be very bright. Assuming Yellowstone doesn't blow or we don't get hit by a meteorite. I like to worry about the crap I can control and there's a wave out there with my name on it. It's my job to catch it instead of getting swamped.